The Tale of Hercules

I wanna wake
Wanna wake
I try to stand up
Upon the ocean of drunkenness
I stay strong,
Though dropping to the ground is painful
I stay sober,
And yes, my cup is empty, so pour me more
I try to be rational
yet the inner Hercules of me
is blasting out a standup comedy on the street
Damn, the shots and arousing sexy counter
Yes, it's bloody messed up week
I try to get over it
But the face of yours
In that snowy night
I just simply can't, flame it off

It's never about the timezone
For jetpacking across the straits
Is worth every fear and tears
For your smile is no doubt
a picture of thousands Mona Lisa

As my memory is fading
A classic sight from far that still delights,
The motionless birthday boy
On the kitchen floor,
And we may
begin the countdown,
For tomorrow,
I shall wake up in shame
On the front porch
Of the grand palace of sin,
The Paramount

With you, i wanna wake with,
Instead, you disperse into thin air




Written, 1017 Menara MK
Based on various sources.

Inspired by the true story,
The Hao Hao Hao experience

Explicitly alcoholic

I'm awake, on the kitchen floor
Double dose, double vision,
A crooked voice, lost my senses
With a heavy toxicated mind
Pieces of memories, I put together
What have you done to me?

Such a hangover
A beautiful hangover
So weird, I'm drunk
By just getting near you

It can't be true
You are honey sweet looking
Yet explicitly alcoholic

It's fatal bond between us
I don't feel like waking up
Coz I can't get enough
From your kindness, oblivious face
I don't want it ever to end

Got me flying so high
While thinking of you
So amazing all the above
Present in a whole package in you

Ain't nobody gonna be like you
As I feel I got stung
By a strong potion-less poison

I'm so excited, delighted
And it's a beautiful hangover
Beautiful my baby


Written 0927 29/10/2012 Menara MK
Published 1428 later @ Menara MK

Based on Bartress, kitchen and outdoor Uncle's experience.

/.\

Sonnet MK

The summer little hut
On a flat soft inner peace
The singing bird of natural snoozer
Waking up, to yet another sunshine
Riding up the horse of fuel
To the four high little trees
Men and women, everywhere
Dressing up to a place I call hell
I dare not to go to the devil's den
For it is known
The generous giver of paperworks
Roll and roll upon irritation
And now I'm chewing my breakfast
For wheatbreads, are my best-friend-not-forever
Then the clock strikes to ten
And it's getting colder and quieter,
I seem to be dozing off helplessly
So the phone glides out restlessly
And I smile unknowingly
That you have tweeted me

And all the rest,
Doesn't matter anymore


Written 250pm, 8/10/12
Petaling Jaya